Firelight
by JenniferMarie20
Summary: Frisk always had weak lungs. When they fall into the underground it's fun and fascinating, until they begin to cough and grow ill and then... Frisk knows they don't have a lot of time. On their way to the barrier they happen to meet a fiery barkeep whose magic might be just what Frisk needs. A moment of kindness that changes both of their lives forever. Found Family. FireDad.
1. Spark

(Notes: Story contains; Found Family, Family of Choice, FireDad, Major Illness, Graphic Depiction of Illness., Platonic Relationships)

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Chapter 1: Spark

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Frisk's first memory was struggling to breathe. Every breath was too short, they couldn't get enough air and then they coughed deep and spasming, shaking every inch of their body until they collapsed in exhaustion. Sometimes the coughing helped and they could breathe a little better for a little while. Sometimes, it would only get worse and the cycle would start all over again. They remembered being sick for a long time. Then there were tubes down their throat, needles in their arm and beeping machines. That was the first time they went to the hospital.

They were almost eight now. It had been a nice day, warm and dry. On days like that they could breathe easier. On days like that they felt almost normal and liked to go outside and explore the mountain behind their apartment building. Frisk never knew when they would never be able to do something like that again and ended up hiking too far. They ducked into a cave to rest and instead plummeted down a hole and into a different world.

The new world they fell into was fascinating. Full of monsters and magic. They met Toriel and made their way through the Ruins, hopping through puzzles as they hummed softly to themselves. They really like Froggits, they were probably the cutest thing Frisk had ever seen, especially when they blushed after a compliment. They tried not to think about the chill that lingered on the stones and faint damp. Even as, in the back of their mind, a prickle of anxiety formed.

After an hour or so they found Toriel again. They felt excited and hopeful as they looked up at her tidy little house. Toriel gave them pie and a room to sleep in and said Frisk could live there and be happy. The food was plentiful and they didn't have to share the bed or any of the toys. Frisk felt guilty and selfish for staying but, it was so nice to have three meals a day.

They stayed. The next day they woke with a faint cough and an itchiness in their throat. It went away after they had a glass of water. So they ignored it. The next day Frisk woke up with a cough, barely an annoyance. Toriel gave then tea with lemon and honey. They did their best not to think about it. But, Frisks' illnesses were never mild, they hadn't been for as long as they could remember.

The cough got worse. Frisk could feel their lungs laboring, feel the pressure building and shortening their breath. Soon they had to stay in bed. Toriel got a doctor to come see them. Healing magic eased their pain but the sickness clung to their lungs, slowly filling them with liquid. Near the end their memories grew spotty, muddled by fever and coughing. They struggled to breathe, each breath growing shorter and more desperate until they passed out and never-

Frisk was standing in front Toriel's small house. They could breathe again and could smell warm butterscotch and cinnamon pie. At first, they had been certain it was a dream, a good dream, but a dream. Yet it felt real, they even pinched themselves to make sure. When they went inside, it was as if they had met Toriel for the first time all over again. They stayed the night again and woke with the same faint cough and itchiness.

They only had a few days.

Frisk asked to leave.

She didn't take it well. Frisk understood why, they had gotten to know her pretty well the last week and when they had been sick and ...dying, she had been very distraught. She had lost so many children and was certain Frisk would leave and be killed by Asgore. How could they tell her that staying with her would kill them too.

Toriel's fire hit them a few times, stinging straight into their soul but eventually she began to relent. Her attacks weakened and she stopped fighting. Frisk clung very tightly to that last hug, not certain if they'd ever see her again.

Leaving the Ruins, however, might have been a mistake.

Their first breath of icy air seared into Frisks lungs like fire and made them cough and cough until their stomach ached. They forced their breathing to slow, body shaking as the desire to cough tried to force its way out of their throat. Frisk pressed the sleeves of their shirt over their nose and mouth, covering the thin fabric with both hands and trying to warm the air before they had to breathe it in. Once the coughing calmed they cupped both hands over their face as they walked forward through the dark snowy landscape.

Meeting Sans was a treat. He startled them so badly they had another coughing fit that left their throat raw. Frisk liked Sans and Papyrus, the brothers were nice and funny but Frisk really could have done without all the puzzles and tricks slowing down their progress or all the horrible fights that they had to struggle through, trying desperately to dodge without breathing to hard. They could feel the sickness creeping deeper inside them, making their lungs feel like they were full of fog.

The small town of Snowdin was a welcome sight, they went to the inn and were immediately disappointed. Frisk had hoped to rest and get their strength up but found a cold unheated room with next door neighbors snoring so loudly it made their teeth vibrate. They went to the shop but it was only slightly warmer inside than outside. Frisk went to the next business along the way, Grillby's, some sort of small restaurant. It did not seem like a place for kids but Frisk's stubbornness flared up and they pushed the door open.

It was warm.

And dry.

Frisk quickly closed the door and hurried further inside. The dog guards were there as well as a smattering of other patrons who all turned and looked at Frisk curiously. Frisk didn't notice, they could only see the man made of fire standing behind the bar. They stumbled forward almost in a trance, the heat growing stronger as they got closer, pulling themselves onto the closest empty stool to the fire man. They held out their hand towards him, feeling tendrils of warmth slowly seeping into their fingertips.

"HhnHaha!" A purple duck laughed from the stool beside them, "Grillby isn't a campfire kid! You going to roast marshmallows over him or something?"

Frisk didn't care.

...They did care. Their eyes pricked with angry tears they tried to blink back because crying would make them cough. How could they know how it felt?! This horrible thick cloying feeling, like their chest was filled with spiderwebs and dust, tight and aching and inches away from hurting them.

Frisk slumped against the bar, arms and hands stretching out over the counter and into empty air. They rested their head on their arm, just trying to be ok. They just wanted to be ok.

There was a soft clink as Grillby sat the cup down that he had been cleaning and stepped over to them. Frisk wondered if they would have to order something. Or maybe he was mad because they had tried to warm their hands with him.

He looked at them through small, strangely fussy, rectangular glasses. He dressed like a fancy wine sommelier from a high class restaurant, all tidy suit and glasses, running a bar and grill that smelled like french fries. After a brief pause, as if he had come to a decision, he turned his hands over; one, then the other, and slid them beneath Frisks hands, close but not touching. The heat from the twisting red and orange flames that made up his hands made Frisk's fingers prickle as the heat seeped into them. They looked up at him, the white embers of his eyes the only feature on his face.

He looked at them like he was a asking permission do something.

Frisk didn't care what it was, they nodded.

He took their hands in his, holding them loosely. Frisk watched with fascination, Grillby felt hot to but did not burn them. The heat from his hands prickled across their palms and slowly spread up their arms, sinking into their chest and filling them with gentle intense warmth. It was like sitting in a hot bath but better. The tightness in their chest began to ease. When they breathed out it was easy and smooth and every breath that followed was a little deeper, a little easier.

Tears pooled in their eyes. Habit, more than anything, made Frisk stifle themselves so they wouldn't sob. They blinked back the tears and took a deep breath, feeling it all the way to their stomach.

They smiled up at Grillby so wide their eyes blurred, and mouthed a silent thank you.

He nodded, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

It was a little strange to be holding hands with a monster made of fire they had just met but they didn't care. They rested their head on their arm again, letting their eyes drift shut as they just breathed.

…...

A hand tapped Frisk's shoulder and they startled up. They winced, their shoulders and neck sore, and their butt numb from sitting on a stool too long. They followed the hand that had tapped and found Grillby gazing down at them.

He gave a slight nod to the restaurant in general.

Frisk followed his nod. The room was empty, tables had been wiped down and the chairs had been put up.

They stood up hurriedly, waving their hands apologetically, backing towards the door.

He motioned for them to wait.

Frisk stopped.

He paused briefly as if debating something then nodded to himself and gestured for Frisk to follow him. Grillby walked through the back door, leaving it open for them.

Frisk jumped and hurried after him. The back door lead to a long narrow hallway, the end of which was an emergency exit. On the right of the hallway were two doors. Grillby passed the first and went to the second, opening it with a soft click and stepping inside. When Frisk didn't immediately follow, his hand stretched out and gestured for them to come.

Frisk walked cautiously to the open door, not sure what to expect. They certainly weren't expecting a small apartment, similar to a college flat. There was a couch against the wall just inside the door, across from a dusty tv. There was a bed on the far wall, a small twin, neatly made. The tv stand had a few books and vhs tapes on the shelf, all as dusty as the tv. There was a small bedside table, piled high with library books. The only ones Frisk could make out were what looked like a cookbook and guide for making cocktails. The closet seemed to be a flimsy, rolling clothes rack pushed against the wall, hanging with three suits identical to the one Grillby was wearing now. Aside from a neat stack of cardboard boxes in the corner, the room was uncluttered and felt barely used. It was a room where someone slept, not lived.

He gestured to the couch and tilted his head slightly.

Frisk looked at the couch. It seemed like he was willing to let them sleep there for the night. They felt a surge of relief that, for the first time since they fell, they would be able to sleep somewhere dry as well as warm.

Frisk looked back at Grillby and smiled tentatively.

Grillby nodded sharply, gave them a brief stay here gesture and turned on his heel, disappearing back out into the hallway.

They considered following him but sat down on the couch. It was a very nice couch, it felt like it was fairly new or rarely used. Their eyes went to the dusty tv; rarely used, probably. Frisk bounced a little where they were sitting and then sat back. Before they had time to wonder where Grillby had gone he returned with two plates with sandwiches on them.

He held one of the plates out to them.

Frisk searched his face.

The corners of his eyes crinkled and he pushed the plate into their hands.

Frisk took a bite. It was a turkey sandwich with lettuce and tomato. The meat was more turkey-like than actual turkey and there was no mayo or mustard or any condiments. The tomato added some moisture and they weren't about to complain about free food.

Grillby found spare blankets for them, one of which Frisk folded up to make a pillow. They kicked off their shoes and curled into the couch, falling asleep almost as soon as they closed their eyes.

~ _Frisk, baby, you have to be careful. More careful than anyone..._

 _...They went over their mental list for the thousandth time: face mask, a thick scarf, hand sanitizer..._

 _~Freak! Weirdo! Hey Vader, use the dark side!..._

 _...Shhhh, lower your voice of you'll wake the kids up... We're both working two jobs and barely paying off the interest, we can't, we can't afford another hospital visit- WHAT? ...What are we supposed to do we can't- We could lose them all ...Hopefully it won't come to that..._

 _~Machines beeping a gentle rhythm. Tubes down their throat. All alone. Alone in the dark..._

They woke coughing. Frisk pressed their face into the couch cushions, desperately trying to stifle each cough but every one came louder and harder making their whole body shudder. They couldn't stop it. Tears soaked into cushions. Their curled into the blankets, balling the fabric in their fists.

A hand pressed against their back. The heat was sudden, almost uncomfortable as it filled their chest. Their breathing began to ease and the coughs became less wracking. Frisk managed to stifled them down to little gasps of air until the irritation in their throat eased.

Grillby left and returned moments later with a small glass of water. They almost laughed when they saw the rubber gloves he wore and how he held the glass as far away from his body as he could. But, they supposed, it wasn't funny really, not to someone made of fire. Frisk drank the water slowly, taking lots of little sips until they almost couldn't feel the itching, pushing desire to cough.

They finished the cup and gave it back to Grillby, wiping their hands dry on the blankets. He sat the cup down next to the tv and peeled off his gloves tossing them on top of the tv set. When he came back Frisk could see his brow was drawn together. They almost felt like they could see the shape of a frown. The more time they spent around him, the easier it was to see his expressions among the twisting flame.

He was worried.

Frisk smiled, partly reassuring, partly because his concern was so kind. He barely knew them after all.

Grillby knelt down next to the couch and put his hand on their back again.

Frisk immediately relaxed, leaning into the heat.

He patted the couch and Frisk lay back down and let their eyes drift close. Grillby pulled the blanket up to his hand but made no move to get up or leave.

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(Note: Next Update, Wednesday, 9/7/16. I would really, really love and appreciate any comments about this new story. Cause I worry. I hope someone like it.)


	2. Ember

(Notes: I know there are no chairs around the tables in Grillbys in the game but I'm going to chalk that up to rpg limitations. There are chairs now.

Also, if you want to know what a fireplace bellows sounds like there are videos on youtube, what a world we live in. Otherwise just consider it a silent laugh.)

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Chapter 2: Ember

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Grillby was gone when Frisk woke up. They coughed faintly but felt better than they thought they would, espeacilly after walking through the Snowdin cold. Frisk followed the sound of a faint clatter out into the hallway and then to the second door. They peeked inside and found that it was the kitchen, with large, sturdy appliances along the walls and in the middle a big table with thick metal legs and a wood top. Grillby was standing at the table, a large knife in hand slicing a tomato.

He spotted them out of the corner of his eye, straightened up and waved for them to come in. Grillby met them at the doorway, putting a somewhat stained, green apron over their head. It was too big and he had to fold it up to tie it snuggly around their waist. Once that was done he steered them to the corner of the kitchen where there were two short stools, a small bucket, and two baskets, one empty and one full of potatoes.

Grillby grabbed a peeler from the counter and picked up a potato, peeling of a large amount of the brown skin with one elegant twist. He put the peeler into one of Frisk's hands, the potato in the other and guided them through peeling a bit more off.

Frisk wasn't very excited about peeling potatoes but they were grateful for all he had done so they screwed up their face in concentration and did their best.

He watched them.

Once the potato was mostly peel free, Frisk held it up for inspection.

Grillby looked at it critically, pointing out a spot with a big patch of rough brown skin still on.

Frisk dutifully peeled it off and held it up again.

He nodded with approval, pointed to the empty basket and returned to his kitchen prep.

Frisk placed the potato in the empty basket. The kitchen settled into a deep and comfortable silence, the only sounds in the room were of Frisk's clumsy peeling and Grillby's knife slicing through vegetables with practiced ease.

Frisk picked up their fourth potato. Faintly, they heard Grillby's flame start crackling but not in a random campfire snap and pop, it had a rhythm to it; like he was humming as he worked.

It was nice. Frisk smiled to themselves, it felt like they knew a secret.

Grillby finished slicing the last tomato and the crackling stopped.

Frisk glanced up. He had gone very still and Frisk was almost certain his flame had more red in it. Frisk did their best to pretend they hadn't noticed.

Grillby came over to their little potato corner, sat down on the other stool and began working beside them. Every now and then Frisk would glance up to admire his technique, Grillby peeled about three potatoes for every one they managed, but Frisk kept at it with dogged determination.

When there were only a couple potatoes left in the basket, Grillby stood up, taking two peeled potatoes with him. Frisk kept working, peeling the last of the basket contents as they listened to Grillby grate and slice. A faint whomph of flame made them turn their head to look as Grillby put a large skillet onto a strange cooktop, it reminded them of something they'd see in a museum from the times before electric stoves, made with thick black iron and fire boxes. The flames that curled around the bottom of the pan were the same color as Grillby's flame.

Frisk watched him work with fascination.

He looked over and gave them a pointed look that shifted to amusement as Frisk fumbled for the last potato and began peeling it hurriedly, cheeks hot at being caught staring.

Frisk heard something that sounded like a fireplace bellows and glanced at Grillby from the corner of their eyes. He was laughing, they were certain he was laughing! They tried to keep a straight face but couldn't help smiling. They had another secret.

The kitchen was starting to smell wonderful. Frisk cautiously breathed as deeply as they dared. Their stomach grumbled faintly. Frisk pursed their lips and focused on the last potato, peeling it to perfection and setting it in the basket with the rest.

At a sharp crackle from behind them made Frisk jumped to their feet. Grillby held out a plate with eggs, hash browns and a slice of bread. Their stomach growled even louder as they took it. With one hand, he spun them around, untied the apron and then lifted it over their head, hanging it on a hook by the door.

Grillby's eyes crinkled and he nodded towards the door, heading out himself.

Frisk followed close behind, plate clasped tight in their hands.

Grillby went to the bar, setting his plate on the polished wood. He pulled a few bottles from under the bar, ketchup, mustard, salsa, a dish of butter, and sat them on the polished surface.

Frisk put their plate down next to his and climbed onto the stool. Grillby offered them a fork and, after some rummaging around, a can of apple juice.

Grillby walked around the bar and sat beside them.

Frisk hesitated then tugged on Grillby shirt. They swallowed hard and whispered in their faint disused voice, "...thank you..."

Grillby's whole face seemed to soften as he looked down at them. He patted their head and, with a mischievous look on his face, picked up his slice of bread and pressed it between his two hands.

Frisk stared, eyes wide. They smiled excitedly as the smell of toast began to fill the air.

He lowered his hands and opened them dramatically, revealing the golden brown slice of toast.

Frisk stared wide-eyed and grabbed the piece of bread from their plate, holding it out hopefully.

Grillby smiled and took their bread, lowering his hands to their eye level.

Frisk tilted their head so they could watch between his fingers. When he parted them Frisk gasped and grinned, taking the hot toast out of his hand while he laughed with gentle huffs of hot air.

Frisk hurriedly dug in. Butter soaked into the hot toast, running down their fingers as they took each bite. The eggs were light and fluffy, tasting rich and yolky. Salsa perfectly offsetting the delicatly seasoned, crisp, golden hashbrowns. It was the best meal they had ever had.

After they had both eaten, Grillby took their dishes back to the kitchen. Frisk trailed after him. He 'washed' his dishes by bathing them in flame and wiping the ash off of them with a cloth.

Opening time drew near and Grillby returned to the front and began taking down the chairs. Frisk tried to help too, lifting a chair from the big center table but lost their grip as a cough caught them off guard. Grillby grabbed the chair with one hand, pushing it back on the table, and squeezed Frisk's shoulder with the other.

Frisk wrapped their arms around their chest, pressing their mouth tight together and fighting down each cough as is curled up from their chest and out their throat.

Grillby held their shoulder, firmly but gently, putting his other hand on Frisk's back. The spasms calmed as the heat settled in their lungs and worked its magic. Once Frisk was able to stop coughing Grillby led them to one of the booths and had them lay down. They wanted to help him some more but he gave them a stern look and Frisk laid back with a sigh.

Frisk stared up past the worn orange-red booth fabric up to the dark ceiling, arms folded over their chest. They could hear Grillby moving around the room, taking down the last of the chairs, wiping the tables down. The flames in the sconces arrayed along the walls brightened noticeably as Grillby flipped on the open sign and unlocked the door. Before long the regulars began to trickle in and drift towards their favorite seats.

Frisk wanted to stay. They were tired and scared and Grillby's magic made them feel better when it got hard to breathe. They felt safe here.

But... they couldn't stay. They had to reach the barrier. Frisk didn't want to die, not for real. Was... that selfish? Were they being selfish-? Trying to go back even though-

There was the soft clink of a cup and saucer on the table. Frisk slowly sat up. Grillby smiled at them faintly before walking back to the counter, customers shouting orders as he passed. Frisk wrapped their hands around the heavy white cup. It felt hot but Frisk was certain Grillby wouldn't let it burn them and took a sip. It was honey and lemon with a touch of ginger and eased the faint tickle in the back of their throat before turning to magic and disappearing as they swallowed.

...They wanted to stay. Frisk lingered over their tea, drinking it as slowly as they could. When the cup was empty they slipped out of the booth and walked to the door. Grillby was busy mixing something at the bar. Frisk waited for a second, hoping he would look up, but he didn't. They waved, even though he couldn't see, and went outside, shuddering as the cold air hit them.

Frisk hurried towards the edge of town. The snow began to fade and the area became thick with a misty fog.

"HUMAN..."

Frisk froze, dread settling in their gut.

A silhouette became more clear in the fog, "ALLOW ME TO TELL YOU ABOUT SOME COMPLEX FEELINGS. FEELINGS LIKE..."

Frisk listened to Papyrus' grand speech. He went on and on about friendship and Frisk hoped he would just let them be his friend. They didn't want to fight. But it wasn't meant to be, Frisk's whole body tensed up for the worst as he declared his intent to capture them after all.

He started out sending three small bones gliding through the snow like dorsal fins. Frisk carefully side stepped them. They smiled at Papyrus, winked clumsily and did finger guns, hoping they could charm him out of fighting.

"WHAT!? F-FLIRTING?" Papyrus stuttered, flustered, "SO YOU FINALLY REVEAL YOUR ULTIMATE FEELINGS! W-WELL... I'M A SKELETON WITH VERY HIGH STANDARDS!"

Frisk swallowed hard, wondering why everyone always insist on speaking so much, "...I can make spaghetti..." they said hoarsely.

Papyrus gasped, "OH NO! YOU'RE MEETING ALL MY STANDARDS!"

Frisk smiled hopefully. Maybe they wouldn't have to fight.

Papyrus continued, "I guess this means I have to go on a date with you...? Let's date later!" He sent another three bones at them.

Frisk grimly dodged out of the way. Apparently the flirting wasn't enough. Papyrus waited for them to attack. Frisk shook their head, coughing into their sleeve.

"SO YOU WON'T FIGHT..." Papyrus said, "THEN LET'S SEE IF YOU CAN HANDLE MY FABLED BLUE ATTACK!"

Huge semi-translucent blue bones appeared all around Papyrus, they cut across the ground and flew through the air towards them. Frisk stayed still and held their breath as the bones passed through them. Unlike the other blue attacks they'd endured, these tingled unpleasantly.

Frisk stumbled, their soul turned blue and began to pull them down. The weight seemed to drag on their whole body. They gasped and coughed, desperately trying to stay on their feet. They didn't even see the small bone, the size of a drumstick, until it ricocheted off their shin, making them whimper in pain.

"YOU'RE BLUE NOW!" Papyrus said proudly and laughed, readying another attack. He sent a wave of three small bones.

Frisk stumbled out of the way, gasping; each breath felt too short. They braced their hands on their knees and coughed. The bones got taller. Frisk didn't see them until it was too late, they threw their arms up instinctively, bones smacked off their arms and chest, bouncing over their head. Frisk sank a down with each impact, ears ringing. The last bone forcing them onto the ground. They knelt on the wet ground, arms wrapped protectively over their head, breathing in short painful gasps between sporadic bouts of coughing that shook their whole body.

They didn't hear what Papyrus said next, only felt when he threaded his arm around the chest and picked them up. Frisk weakly tried to twist away, his grip on their chest made it harder to breath. Their struggles becoming more frantic with every step he took, they felt like they were drowning.

Frisk gasped when he put them down on a wood floor and left them, closing the door behind him with a click. The floor was rough and dirty. Frisk lay their for a long time, until they could stop coughing as hard, could stop trembling and shiver instead. It was cold. Their lungs rattled with every breath.

Frisk slowly sat up and glanced around. They were in a shed, a small cold shed with nothing in it but a dog bed and bowl of dog food. Frisk blinked back tears and wrapped their arms around themselves.

They carefully got to their feet and left, walking out of the too wide bars and the unlocked door. Frisk crept back towards the fog, peering into it to see if Papyrus was still there. He was. They hurried back to the shed, opened the door and then slammed it as loudly as they could before running back and hiding behind a clump of frost covered bushes.

They muffled their breathing with their sleeve and forced themselves not to cough, even as it itched in the back of their throat, as Papyrus' boots crunched past them in the snow. Frisk waited until they heard him open the shed door to leave their hiding spot and hurried down the path as fast as they dared.

The mist slowly dissipated the further they went and it became a little warmer. Frisk looked around hopefully but with every step they saw more water, dripping down the walls, running alongside the path, raining down from everywhere. The air was thick and cloying with humidity. Their breath shortened and began to wheeze and rattle as their lungs seemed to suck in the moisture like a dry sponge.

They spotted Sans ahead, sitting in a small sentry station, reading a car magazine that looked like it had been dropped in the bathtub at least once. Frisk tapped on the counter with their knuckles and glared at him, feeling betrayed that he would act like their friend but let his brother be so mean to them.

He misinterpreted their expression. "what? haven't you seen a guy with two jobs before?" He shoved the magazine under the counter and stood up, stretching, "fortunately, two jobs means twice as many legally required breaks. i'm going to grillby's. wanna come?" he asked.

Grillby's. Frisk nodded without thinking.

Sans shrugged helplessly, "well if you insist-" he walked around the station- "i'll pry myself away from my work." He started walking further up the path, nodding for them to follow him, "over here. i know a shortcut."

Frisk hurried after him, they blinked and suddenly the air was warm and dry, the walls lit by flickering flames.

"fast shortcut, huh?" Sans grinned, turning to the room to joke and talk with everyone as he headed towards the bar.

Frisk stared at Grillby, polishing a glass behind the bar. They grabbed the edge of their shirt in both hands, squeezing it tight, trying to blink back tears. A cough choked out of them and turned into great gasping sobs as tears began to roll down their cheeks.

"kid?" Sans turned back to them.

Grillby slammed the glass down and rounded the bar, his flames licking high and red in the sudden dead silence.

"whoa!" Sans held out his hand, backing towards Frisk, "grillby, the kid's not gonna hurt any-"

Grillby pushed Sans aside. He knelt in front of Frisk, catching their chin and tilting their head up. Grillby frowned, his brow furrowed.

Frisk tried to rub their face dry on their sleeve with a sniffle that turned into a horrible hacking cough.

Grillby pressed a hand to Frisk's forehead. His frown deepened and turned on Sans with frightening intensity.

Sans flinched backward.

" _...whooo...?_ " Grillby hissed, his voice a crackle of fire and sputtering sparks.

Sans' eye lights shrank to specks, "just a little sparring, he'd never-"

Grillby snapped, " _...they're...sssick!_ "

Frisk reached out took Grillby's hand and squeezed it, it felt too hot.

When he looked at them Frisk shook their head. "...s'ok," they whispered.

Grillby huffed, his flame flaring briefly and then subsiding. He stood and picked Frisk up in one smooth motion. Startled, they clung to his shoulders, wrapping their legs around his waist. Grillby didn't seem to notice Frisks nervousness, holding them up easily, with one arm under their legs as he walked back to the bar.

Frisk slowly relaxed, curling their arms around his neck and laying their head on his shoulder, careful to use their sleeve to catch any stray tears.

They felt safe.

The whole bar stared in complete and utter shock.

Grillby picked up a cleaning cloth and began wiping down the bar with his free hand, aggressively ignoring everyone.

Sans slid onto his stool at the bar, trying not to draw attention to himself, glancing at Grillby from the corner of his eye and trying to gauge when he might have cooled off.

The bar slowly started talking again in hushed tones.

"...i don't suppose i could have a burg?" Sans asked, keeping his tone light.

Grillby gave him a pointed look, reached under the bar, pulled out a ketchup bottle and set it loudly and deliberately in front of Sans.

Sans shrugged, "i can see why you like them, nice kid, really quiet." he picked up the bottle of ketchup, "i'd just heard you didn't care for humans."

Grillby didn't reply. He tilted his head slightly to check on Frisk who was half asleep, tears of relief slipping down their cheeks and into their sleeve.

Sans toyed with the bottle, letting it rock back and forth on its round bottom, "i'll talk to my brother. he wouldn't have fought them if he knew they weren't doing so well."

Grillby's perfect circular wiping motions paused for half a breath then continued, his brow drew further together.

"i mean how many monsters would know what a sick human looks like? assuming they knew what a normal human looked like..." Sans put the bottle down and slowly slid off the barstool, "so, uh, just put a burg on my tab, for the kid, for when they're feeling better." he waved over his shoulder, his casual scuffling steps speeding up as he neared the door and hurried out of the bar to find his brother.

Grillby put the cloth down.

He sighed, and rested his hand against Frisk's back.

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(My other story, A Cast Shadow, also updated today! It's pretty neat if I do say myself. Why not take a look?

Next Update: I wanted to do something for the first anniversary of Undertale so next week there will be another chapter of this story, wednesday 9/14/1, then it'll go back to bi-weekly updates. )


	3. Kindling

(Notes: I just want to say thank you to everyone that comments, reviews or leaves a kind word. Especially those that do so every chapter, they keep me going and I really, really appriciate it. Thank you so much.)

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Chapter 3: Kindling

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The door to the bar was flung open, "I AM HERE TO APOLOGIZE TO THE SMALL HUMAN!" Papyrus declared.

Sans hurried after him, closing the door and trying to catch Papyrus' arm, "bro this isn't the time-"

"IT IS NEVER TO EARLY OR TO LATE TO MAKE AMENDS!" Papyrus said walking up to the bar.

"i just think grillby needs some time to cool off."

Papyrus paused briefly, his eyes narrowing, "THAT WAS A PUN WASN'T IT?"

Sans couldn't resist a grin.

Papyrus turned back to the bar, Grillby was not there.

The purple duck pointed with one feathered wing to a piece of cardboard folded into a little triangle standee, it sign read, _Ring for service_. There was a small desk bell beside the note.

Papyrus went to ring the bell but his hand only hit wood. The bell slid across the counter, wreathed in blue magic.

Sans cupped his hand protectively over the bell, "i know you're gungho about this, so i'm not going to stop you-"

Papyrus opened his mouth.

"however-" Sans held up his hand, "while grillby's always been a good guy for as long as i've known him, rumor is he's one of the oldest and maybe strongest monsters in the underground, i heard he even fought in the war. just... try and be tactful."

"I AM ALWAYS TACTFUL!" Papyrus said indignantly, smacking the top of Sans hand so the bell chimed. That didn't produce and immediate response so he kept hitting it.

Sans snatching his hand out of the way and grabbed his brother's wrist, "that's the exact opposite of tact, bro."

Grillby came through the back door looking only mildly annoyed but he dropped all pretense of professionalism when he saw who it was. His fame flared into a deep angry red, briefly licking the ceiling.

Papyrus bravely held his ground, "I HAVE COME TO APOLOGIZE, TO THE SMALL HUMAN."

Grillby glared at him.

"I WAS NOT-" Papyrus began sweating, "-AWARE THEY WERE HURT." He tried to smile disarmingly, "WOWIE, YOU'RE VERY INTIMIDATING!"

Grillby's flames slowly relaxed and returned to their normal color. He walked over to the bar and grabbed the bell, setting it back beside the note and went back to the back hallway, leaving the door open behind him.

"come on," Sans said walking around Papyrus and heading for the door, "he wouldn't have left it open if he didn't want us to follow."

"ARE YOU SURE?" Papyrus followed a few steps behind, "BECAUSE I KNOW I'M FIREPROOF BUT MY CLOTHES ARE NOT AND I REALLY LIKE THIS OUTFIT!"

"pppff." Sans chuckled, "i'm sure. grillby's a monster of few words, if he leaves a door open its for a reason. and you're not magic-fire proof."

Papyrus stopped dead in his tracks a few steps before the door to Grillby's apartment.

Sans grinned, "come on, bro. you wanted to apologize right?"

"I CAN'T TELL IF YOU'RE JOKING OR NOT!"

"about the fire? i'm not. it'll be fine. nothing the great papyrus can't handle, right?"

Papyrus straightened his back, "WELL, OF COURSE! THE GREAT PAPYRUS NEVER BACKS DOWN FROM ANY CHALLENGE!"

Sans went inside, Papyrus following a few steps back.

Grillby was inside helping Frisk sit up on the couch, pulling the blanket up around them, checking their forehead for fever. Frisk coughed, their breathing crackling shallowly. Grillby pressed his palm to their chest, right below the collarbone, his hand taking on a slightly darker shade of red. Frisk's eyes closed and gradually their breathing became deeper and lost the crackling roughness.

Papyrus glanced down at Sans and anxiously fiddling with the edge of his cape. Sans watched Grillby.

Grillby sat back, checking Frisk's forehead again.

Frisk gave him tired smile.

Grillby nodded towards Sans and Papyrus.

Frisk followed his nod and blinked in surprise and waved excitedly before grimacing and coughing into their hand.

Grillby frowned at the brothers.

Sans nudged Papyrus, "bro."

"OH! UM!" Papyrus cleared his throat dramatically, "I'VE COME TO APOLOGIZE TO YOU. HUMAN. I DIDN'T KNOW YOU WERE UNWELL, YOU SHOULD HAVE SAID! I NEVER WOULD HAVE FOUGHT YOU IF I HAD KNOWN!"

Grillby narrowed his eyes.

"BUT!" Papyrus said hurriedly, "I AM VERY SORRY I DID!"

Grillby's expression didn't change.

"AND IT WON'T HAPPEN AGAIN!"

Grillby relaxed and nodded, standing up and heading for the door.

Papyrus and Sans quickly stepped out of the way.

Grillby paused briefly at the doorframe, pointing to Frisk.

"we'll look after them, no problem." Sans said quickly.

He looked sternly from one brother to the other, then left the room.

Papyrus wiped off the sweat beading on his forehead, "HE'S REALLY INTIMIDATING!"

"you already said that." Sans said walking over to the couch and slumping down on the end nearest the door.

"YES, BUT HE'S AS BAD AS UNDYNE WHEN SHE'S IN A BAD MOOD!" Papyrus said shuffling his boots on the wood floorboards.

Sans turned to Frisk, "you need anything kid?"

Frisk shook their head.

"you're going ok here? do you like grillby?"

They smiled and nodded.

"i don't think i've ever seen him get worked up like that before." Sans said, "he's usually so... contained."

Frisk patted the couch to get Papyrus' attention and then motioned for him to come closer.

He jumped slightly and practically ran over to them, dropping to his knees beside the couch, "YES, TINY HUMAN?"

They coughed and rubbed their throat, "...Can we be friends?" Frisk asked faintly.

"REALLY?!" Papyrus said excitedly, "YOU WANT TO BE FRIENDS, WITH ME?"

Frisk nodded.

"WOWIE! WE HAVEN'T EVEN HAD OUR FIRST DATE AND I'VE ALREADY MANAGED TO HIT THE FRIEND-ZONE!"

Sans half choked, half laughed, "what?"

"I'LL HAVE YOU KNOW, SANS, THAT I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, AM QUITE THE CATCH! NYEH HEH HEH HEH!" He said with a flourish.

Frisk's cheeks flushed but they smiled and gave the tall skeleton a thumbs up.

Sans chuckled, "you're a catch and a half, bro."

Sans and Papyrus went quiet as Grillby's steps came back down the hallway and stepped back into the room, a large bowl in hand. He gave the bowl to Frisk and pulled a spoon from his vest pocket.

Frisk took the spoon and began eating the chickeny noodle soup.

"since when was soup on the menu?" Sans said.

Grillby didn't dignify him with a response, watching Frisk.

Frisk made a vague yum sound and smiled appreciatively.

Grillby went back to the door, leaning on the doorframe and glancing towards the bar occasionally, listening for the bell.

Sans dozed off almost immediately.

Papyrus fidgeted nervously wantin to say something but unable to muster the nerve. His phone piped an alarm and Papyrus clattered and fumbled dropping the phone in his haste. He snatched it off the floor and silenced it, clutching it tightly in both hands.

"you jumped out of your skin there, bro," Sans opened one eye and grinned. "you got somewhere you need to be?"

Papyrus wailed in despair, "WHAT AM I GOING TO DO SANS?! I'M SUPPOSED TO REPORT TO UNDYNE IN TWELVE MINUTES!"

Frisk lowered their spoon and glanced from Papyrus to Sans in concern, then up to Grillby who made a sharp hissing noise.

"twelve minutes?" Sans asked.

"THAT'S THE EXACT TIME IT TAKES ME TO GET FROM MY SENTRY POST TO WATERFALL, THAT'S NOT WHAT'S IMPORTANT SANS!" He gestured with the phone impatiently, "SHE'S GOING TO WANT TO KNOW ABOUT THE HUMAN! WHAT SHOULD I DO?!"

Sans shook himself awake and sat forward with a sigh, "yeah..." he glanced at Grillby and explained, "my bro can't lie. well, he can, but he's really, really, really bad at it."

"SANS! I HAVE JUST MADE A NEW FRIEND AND NOW THEY ARE MORTAL ENEMIES FATED TO MEET ON THE FIELD OF BATTLE!" Papyrus lamented.

Frisk leaned over and patted Papyrus' shoulder comfortingly.

Grillby crossed his arms over his chest.

"just tell her the truth." Sans said, "i have the feeling she'd have to have to go through grillby to get to the kid anyway. i don't envy her chances."

Grillby's eyes narrowed and he frowned.

"WHY CAN'T ALL MY FRIENDS JUST BE FRIENDS!?" Papyrus' phone beeped a second alarm. He quickly turned it off, "I HAVE TO GO!"

Sans slid off the couch, "i'll come with. if the cap is headed this way i should probably get to my station so she doesn't chew me out."

"GOODBYE, TINY HUMAN!" Papyrus said with a wave. "WORRY NOT! THE GREAT PAPYRUS SHALL NOT BETRAY YOU!"

Sans nodded, "see ya around."

Frisk waved to the both of them.

Papyrus marched stiffly out of the bar and down the snowy street in agonized silence.

Sans half walked, half skipped to keep up, "you... gonna... be... ok?"

"...HM?" Papyrus glanced back and slowed down, "O-OF COURSE! THIS IS NOTHING FOR THE GREAT PAPYRUS, FUTURE ROYAL GUARDSMEN!"

"right. you got this, bro." Sans said and grinned, patting his brothers arm and heading off towards his waterfall station.

Papyrus barely managed a nod, his pace slowing with every step that approached the ridge top that overlooked the path through Waterfall. His bones rattled when he saw the gleam of metal. She was wearing the full suit of armor, rather than just her regular few essential pieces.

"H-" Papyrus loudly cleared his throat, "-HI, UNDYNE! I'M HERE WITH MY DAILY REPORT!"

She was standing so still he wasn't sure she was listening.

He went on nervously, "...UH...REGARDING THAT HUMAN I CALLED YOU ABOUT EARLIER..."

She turned, her eye flashing out of her helmet. "Did you fight them?"

"DID I FIGHT THEM?" He crossed his arms and stared heroically into the light, "Y-YES!OF COURSE I DID! I FOUGHT THEM VALIANTLY!"

"Did you capture them?" she demanded.

"...WHAT?" He turned back to her sheepishly, "DID I CAPTURE THEM?..."

"Did. You. Capture. Them." She enunciated impatiently.

He focused on keeping his bones still, "W-W-WELL... NO. I TRIED VERY HARD BUT... THEY'RE- THE HUMAN IS SICK AND IT WOULD BE UNFAIR AND CRUEL AND UNHEROIC TO- TO-"

"Never mind!" Undyne snapped then sighed and shook her head, "I'll take the human's soul myself."

Papyrus froze and shook his head frantically. He walked up to Undyne, waving his hands placatingly, "BUT UNDYNE YOU DON'T HAVE TO DESTROY THEM! YOU SEE... YOU SEE.. THEY'RE VERY NICE-"

She turned to him, each word a hiss between her clenched teeth, as she jabbed his chest piece with her finger, "My god, did you BEFRIEND the human, Papyrus?!"

He froze, sweat beading on his forehead.

She turned away from him with a sigh, "...Go home. You're just going to get hurt."

Papyrus' face fell. His balled his hands tightly together. "...I UNDERSTAND. I'LL HELP YOU IN ANYWAY I CAN," He said sadly and hurried back to town.

Undyne clenched her gauntlets, "...Just one more..." She spun around as grass rustled below the cliff and walked to the cliff edge, forming a spear of pure sparking magical energy and raised her arm. The grass was quiet. She scanned the area and saw, the briefest glimpse of a little yellow monster, watching her with stars in their eyes. Undyne sighed, let the spear dissipate and stalked away.

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(Next Update: In 2 weeks, Thursday, 9/29/16.)


	4. Smolder

(Notes: This ended up being more like a nibblet than chapter so I'll update next week as well instead of two weeks from now.)

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Chapter 3 1/2: Smolder

Frisk blinked awake, enjoying a second's warmth and comfort in a nest of blankets wrapped around them on the couch. The room was dark and there was no noise from the bar. As they padded out into the hallway they could see the front room was dark and silent. There was a crack of light coming from the kitchen and they pushed the door open.

Grillby was scraping the top of the large flat top grill, getting all the gunky burg residue off the large smooth metal surface. He had his sleeves rolled up and was wearing the stained green apron, his brow furrowed in effort. Frisk crept closer, leaning on the thick metal legs of the worktable in the middle of the room and watching the fire monster work. He cleaned the scraper and set it aside, wiping his brow and sending a few sparks sizzling down his arm. He grabbed what looked like a scrub pad with a handle next and began scrubbing the surface the grill.

Frisk coughed faintly, pressing their face into their sleeve.

Grillby put the scrub pad down and turned to them, his fingers flicking up in a brief wave that Frisk echoed. He dropped down so he was eye level with them and held out his hand.

Frisk smiled and wrapped their hands around his fingers glowing yellow and orange with flickering flames.

Grillby brought his other hand up and covered theirs, his hands taking on a deeper red.

Frisk closed their eyes and breathed in, slow and deep. Their brow twitched and they coughed hard a few times until they broke up the congestion deep in their lungs. They focused on slowly calming the cough, swallowing hard a few times then took another deep breath. When they breathed out, the air felt hot in their throat and their lungs felt warm and clear.

Frisk opened their eyes and nodded, slowly loosening their grip on his fingers and resisting the urge to clutch after him when he stood up. He went to the stove where a pot was sitting on a low flame and ladled something into a large bowl, turning on his heel and setting it on the worktable.

Frisk perked up as he came back to them and easily lifted them up so they could sit on the edge of the tall work table.

Grillby gestured to the bowl as he went to fetch a spoon.

Frisk twisted and picked up the bowl. It was soup again, though, more of a stew filled with vegetables in a rich tomatoy broth. They regarded it nervously, worried the tomato would sting their throat.

Grillby returned with a spoon and gave it to them, nodding encouragingly.

Frisk took a tiny sip, it was rich and creamy and as they swallowed the food dissipated into magic, leaving only it's warmth to fill their stomach. Frisk smiled and took a bigger bite. The vegetables were soft and tasted like the broth and dissolved just as easily. The food filled them with a warmth like Grillby's fire and fullness that seemed to start in their soul.

Grillby sighed softly, his eyes crinkling.

He patted their smooth brown hair and turned back to the grill, scrubbing it clean while Frisk ate. Frisk swung their legs idly as they watched him move around the kitchen with ease, putting everything away and wiping everything down until the kitchen was spotless and ready for the next day's business. As their spoon scrapped the last bite out of the bottom of the bowl, he plucked it from their hand, cleaning, wiping it down and putting it away in the five steps across the kitchen. The whole kitchen had a faint ashy, campfire smell and gleamed shinily.

Grillby came back over to them with a mischievous look in his eyes, "... _dessssert_...?" he asked in his strange crackly voice.

Frisk grinned and nodded vigorously.

Grillby rummaged around in one of the cabinets, pulling out two squares of black metal, held together by a hinge, two long, rod like handles on the end. He set it on the stove top and the flame flared to life beneath it to heat the metal. He watched it closely for a moment, flipping it to heat the other side before he leaving. He pulled a myriad of different things from the refrigerator, butter and jams, chocolate and syrup.

Behind them, on the table, a thin sheet of plastic crinkled and fluttered as Grillby lined up the jars and bowls on the worktop. He lifted the edge of the plastic, revealing a little ball of dough which he carefully picked up in a hand what was calm yellow in color and gave off barely any heat as he carried it back to the stove.

Frisk leaned forward, craning their neck to see as much as possible. Grillby opened the black iron square and Frisk realized with delight that it was a waffle iron. He dropped the dough in the waffle iron and closed it, the flames dancing underneath the black metal, his hand pressed to the top, red, white with heat.

Frisk breathed deeply as the sweet smell of vanilla, caramelized sugar and sweet dough began to permeate the room. Grillby pulled it open and plucked out the waffle, bringing it back over to the table. It sizzled and steamed in his hand, molten sugar disappearing into the flame with a burnt sugar smell. He spread butter into the waffle, letting it melt into the pockets and then spread over that fresh raspberry jam, red and pink, studded with seeds. The warm waffle seemed to bring the jam to life, a sharp, sweet berry scent mixing with the vanilla and sugar.

Grillby held it out to them and Frisk took it reverentially. They blew on it cautiously and then took a bite. It tasted even better than it smelled. Frisk closed their eyes and ate it very slowly, trying to make it last. They stopped when there were two or so bites left and offered it back to Grillby with a smile, wanting to share how wonderful it was.

He smiled and took the last bite, seeming to take care to eat it as slowly as Frisk had. Grillby made waffles with chocolate, letting it melt and soften, with apples and cinnamon, with syrup and little chopped pecans, and Frisks favorite of the night, blueberry compote with a drizzle of white chocolate. Frisk made sure to share every single one with Grillby. It was far too much food, it made their soul feel tight like their stomach might with regular food but in a good way.

The baking was over and night was creeping up. Even having slept most of the day they started to feel drowsy. Grillby paused before cleaning up, resting his hands on the edge of the table and leaned over so he was at the same height as Frisk.

He tapped his chest and said, "... _Grriiiillby._ " He turned his hand, tapping their chest and nodded towards them slightly.

"Frisk." They said with a keen surge of happiness at finally being asked their name and was filled with determination.

Grillby nodded with a smile of his own, satisfied.

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(Update: Next Thursday, 10/6/16)


	5. Flash Point

(Notes: It's always interesting to get to know a new character. I hope you enjoy getting to know him too. Thank you for all the comments last chapter. You could always leave some more *winkwonk*)

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Chapter 4: Flash Point

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Grillby slowly turned the glass round and round in his hand, a white cloth, worn thin over the years; polished the outside of the already spotless glass. His hands moved rhythmically in a practiced circle, just marking time until the next order or table to clean. But that was before.

He looked up at the closed door.

Frisk had left to have a 'date' with Papyrus. He couldn't complain. They had been feeling better and Sans' younger brother was too kind for his own good, he wouldn't hurt them.

And in the end, Grillby was not their guardian.

He looked back down at his hands and half-heartedly wiped the cloth over the tumbler.

He sighed.

He looked back up at the closed door.

Without really looking, he put the glass away on the shelf, tossed the cloth on the bar top and braced his hands on the heavy wood. He hadn't eaten lunch yet. He usually didn't. There was still the potato peels, tomato scraps, and other leftovers. It was what he normally ate, scraps and half finished meals. He had never bothered with cooking for himself. A fire consumed, it didn't have to be palatable. But... a sandwich might be nice.

He watched the door.

With fries. Maybe garlic fries.

His fingers drummed on the dark surface.

He didn't know how Frisk felt about garlic.

He wondered... if he should have let them stay another night, wondered if he should he have let them stay the first night, wondered if he should he have burned the water from their lungs.

He sighed.

Flame wasn't meant to heal. Flame consumed. Flame destroyed. He was never meant to be a healer.

The bell over the door chimed. Papyrus stepping in from the cold with Frisk sitting atop his shoulders, looking tired and a little pale but otherwise fine.

Grillby's shoulders relaxed.

Papyrus crossed the floor, lifting Frisk from his shoulders when he reached the end of the bar and setting them on their feet.

They looked up at Grillby with a smile, happy to see him.

He smiled back, walking to their side and kneeling down beside them. He put his hand against their forehead and noted it was a little warmer than it should be but not as bad as it had been the day before. He offered to pick them up.

Their face lit up and they held their arms up.

He scooped them up, frowning that they were so light. He didn't know what weight they should have been but they seemed too light to him.

Grillby wondered if they had eaten. He hoped not. He had heard... rumors about Papyrus' cooking.

"... _hungrrry..._?" he asked faintly, struggling to shape words out his native fire.

They nodded.

It was remarkable they always seemed to understand him, even without words. But they spoke with their own silence.

Frisk hugged his neck tightly and leaned their head against his and he felt the gentle, peculiar warmth in his chest that had nothing to do with fire.

Grillby wondered if he should have taken their hands the first time.

He pressed his hand to their back.

Frisk waved to Papyrus.

Grillby had not noticed the tall skeleton was still around. He did take note that Papyrus was nervous and fidgeting.

Grillby stared at Papyrus until anxiety provoked him to speak.

"U-UNDYNE WILL PROBABLY BE- SHE WAS-" His face fell, "UNDYNE WAITED FOR THE HUMAN IN WATERFALL YESTERDAY. SHE'LL BE SEARCHING SNOWDIN TODAY." Papyrus played with is gloves, his eyes growing teary, "I APOLOGIZE, I CAN'T DO MORE!"

Grillby patted his shoulder. He went back to the bar and pulled out a cup and a bottle of milk from bar refrigerator, setting them on the bar in front of an empty stool.

Grillby gestured to the small offering.

Papyrus cautiously sat down, "FOR ME? THANK YOU!"

Grillby gave him a kind nod.

He pressed his hand to Frisk's back again, focusing on their lungs and the moisture that had spread there, both inside the lungs and in the lining around the lungs, which was the most worrisome. He carefully burned off as much moisture as he dared. Humans were filled with water, depended on it in a most unpleasant way, but Frisk had too much. They were dangerously unbalanced.

Finished, he sat Frisk on a stool behind the counter across from Papyrus who happily began chatting with them as he drank his milk.

Grillby went to the back and made two sandwiches. He decided on turkey and couldn't help thinking that the monsters that created this food had never seen a turkey, much less knew what one tasted like. Despite that, the 'meat' they created down here was fairly good, especially if it was prepared well.

As he was making the fries, he impulsively made half of them garlic fries, and carefully separating them on the plate with a pickle spear. He brought out Frisk's sandwich first and the fries. They always seemed pleased, no matter what he made them, but he watched in trepidation as they looked at the fries, and then carefully tried one of each.

They frowned at the garlic fries, cautiously tried another one and then shook their head, eating a few of the regular ones before picking up their sandwich.

Grillby nodded to himself as he went back and got his own sandwich, no garlic then, or at least not that much. He ate with them and listened as Papyrus happily waxed lyrical about puzzles and being a future royal guard.

Frisk waved goodbye as Papyrus left and Grillby granted him a slight nod.

He cleaned up and did rounds around the bar to collect all the dirty dishes and glasses, taking new orders as he went. He did his best to continue work as normal as the day went on but felt the tension creeping up in his neck and found himself hypersensitive to any sounds he wasn't expecting.

Frisk seemed content to stay behind the bar. By some sort of unspoken, mass agreement, all the patrons paid their bill to Frisk. Frisk would take the gold and gravely count it out on the little shelf under the bar and then give the patron a big smile and a thumbs up, two thumbs up if they left a tip. They seemed to leave a lot more tips when they were paying Frisk.

Frisk seemed very pleased to be able to help.

Grillby wiped a cloth across the bar, his mind drifting through various tasks as he tried to think what other little things Frisk could do.

The door slammed open, cracking back against the back wall so hard the handle embedded in the wall and still rebounded.

Grillby braced one hand on the center of the bar and smoothly vaulted over it, feeling a little slower than he had been a couple hundred years ago.

The guard captain stepped inside a blue spear of magical energy already in her hand.

Grillby wondered if he was getting old.

He kept one eye on the spear. Pure magic could do some damage to him if he wasn't careful. He stepped across the floor in a few long strides, hardly noticing the bar patrons scrambling out of his way.

She began to raise the spear, too high, too slow, he noted; and she had failed to step away from the doorway, good for retreating, but would limit her movement in a fight.

He ducked slightly and stepped around her upraised arm, grabbing it and pushing it up so she would either be holding it too high or be forced to bend her elbow.

She bent her elbow.

He gripped her forearm, rushed back with the bend and slamming her into the doorframe with a crash.

Full metal armor. Good for fighting humans. Bad for fighting elementals.

Quite possibly the worst for fighting fire elementals.

Her eye flashed inside her helmet and he felt her soul magic swell.

He twisted her arm back and around. The pain caused her magic to falter.

Grillby took the opportunity and pressed his free hand to her breastplate, the flames of his fingers blazing a deep red then blue-white as he flooded the heavy metal with heat.

He could hear her gasping. Her magic flickering in panic like a new recruit.

Hands grabbed the back of his vest, "Please don't!" Frisk said in a panic, trying to pull him back, shaking their head frantically.

He let go; his fire pulled back so suddenly the flames in the sconces around the bar guttered and went out, sinking the room into darkness.

"...please..." Frisk whispered, tears streaking down their cheeks.

Grillby nodded gravely, clenching his jaw.

He pulled the guard captain's helmet off. She was young, her face red beneath blue scales and passed out from the heat. Grillby gripped the front of her armor and dragged her outside, flinching as the cold hit him. A light snow was falling; the snowflakes stung, hissing and melting as they landed.

He laid her down in the middle of the road, quickly and carefully burning through the straps that held her armor on, pulling her out of it, and sliding her into the cold snow.

Frisk ran to her side, picking up handfuls of snow and pressing it to her cheeks and forehead.

Grillby stood back. He couldn't do much else. If she failed to revive within the next few minutes he supposed he could dunk her in the river.

He crossed his arms and did his best to ignore the unpleasant sting of snow.

He could hold her by her feet and just drop her in. He glanced at Frisk's tear streaked face and revised the idea. He could hold her by her feet and nicely dip her in and then nicely pull her out, nicely set her on the ground and nicely resist the urge to break her legs.

The bar patrons were starting to trickle outside to watch. Without him in the bar, all the fires would have all gone out and soon the small building would be as cold as the rest of Snowdin. He did not look forward to warming it again.

The guard's eyes fluttered and slowly pulled open. Her head snapped around to Frisk, the snow they had been holding to her forehead slid into her hair as Frisk dropped it and tried to scramble backward. A cough stopped them, shaking their whole body as their lungs fought to clear themselves. They looked paler as the coughing stopped and yet, a flush of fever was building in their cheeks.

Grillby frowned, Frisk would likely need to stay in bed the rest of the day now, even though they had been feeling much better.

He dropped down, squatting in front of the guard. The movement caught her eye and she froze when she saw him, fear flashing through her eye before she managed to hide it behind defiance and pride. She had far too much pride for a whelp with so many openings.

He did not like speaking. It was not easy, but it felt necessary here.

He pointed at Frisk, "... _Thhhey... saaavved... you._ " He narrowed his eyes. The unspoken, 'I wouldn't have', hanging in the air between them like an unfulfilled threat. He would quite happily, nicely, break her legs if she tried anything.

Grillby stepped over to Frisk and lowered himself down with great care. He reached out and dried the tears from their face with easy flicks of his fingers, taking care not to flinch at the sting but Frisk caught his hand and pulled it down anyway. They were so worried about getting water anywhere near him, even as it hissed as it fell on his head and covered the ground he stood on.

Grillby offered Frisk his hand and carefully pulled to their feet as he stood himself. With a sudden surge of anxiety that might have been there the whole time, he pulled Frisk into a hug, squeezing them tightly and let out a breath he might have been holding without realizing. Frisk hugged him back, their hands gripping the fabric of his shirt tightly. They were shaking. He held on until they were calmer and then smoothed their hair, resting a hand on their shoulder as he begrudgingly held his hand out to the guard captain.

She glared at him and clenched her jaw but, much to his surprise, she grabbed his hand and let him pull her to her feet.

He paused as he gripped her hand. Young, but strong. If she had good sense she might be able to make something of herself as a fighter.

He glanced behind him. There was the bar. Everything had to be re-lit. He had to drive out the cold lurking in the corners and along the floor. Everyone was going to track snow inside. It was like the mat was for decoration. He swore he'd seen patrons step _over_ it on their way inside.

...But...

He regarded the guard captain critically and she stiffened under his scrutiny, instantly shifting her weight to be prepared for a fight.

He nodded to himself.

Without much thought to why, Grillby took her arm and pulled it up, she only resisted slightly, to mimic how she had attacked him in the bar. He grabbed her arm and replayed the scene, twisting and pushing her arm as he stepped forward, but slowly. Then he lead her back into the original pose, and as he began to push her arm up and back, he took her other hand and guided it to show where she could have punched him in the abdomen when he grabbed. Then he demonstrated a leg sweep. He gestured impatiently for her to try them both herself as he mimed the fight again.

She did, a little hesitantly at first, but with growing interest and a sharp toothy smile.

He made her do it three more times then nodded, letting go of her arm and stepping back, satisfied. If they fought again, at least it would be slightly more interesting.

That would be enough for today, she was tired and needed to regain her health. Like all young monsters, she relied on her magic too much. Magic was designed to keep foes at a distance, and if someone got inside your reach, it was nearly useless. Not that he couldn't teach her how to use it in close quarters.

He heard Papyrus before he saw him, as was often the case. He was running over to them, looking weepy.

Grillby glanced over to Frisk who lifted up their cellphone in explanation. He nodded in approval.

He crossed his arms over his chest, ignoring whatever it was Papyrus and the guard were yelling at one another. Both of them were far too loud for his liking but Papyrus was worrying and doting over the captain and helping her gather up her armor with the intention of helping her home despite her protests. It seemed like this particular trial was over.

He offered his hand. Frisk took it and squeezed two of his fingers tightly in their small hand. He squeezed back and walked with them back into the bar.

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(Next Update: Thursday, 10/20/2016. :)


	6. 5

(Notes: Interesting factoid, 5 in numerology symbolizes fire. Sorry this is a week late. I've been struggling with it. This story wasn't planned to be this long actually. It should have ended already but I was enjoying it, now not so much. Which is to say that there will probably only be one more chapter and then a short epilogue. The ending will feel a bit abrupt but I promise it's not, it's just that the middle is so stretched out. I shouldn't excuse my bad pacing but I'm not going to do anything about it so~)

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5

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Frisk screwed their eyes up tight and swung their arm wildly. Soft black fabric skimmed across their knuckles and slowly came to a rest against something as hard as iron. Frisk hesitantly opened one eye and saw their fist gently resting against Undyne's stomach.

They looked up at her through a haze of smoke and smiled hopefully.

Undyne stared down at them in dismay, "What."

Frisk slowly pulled their hand back. Every breath made their lungs ache, their throat stung but they did their best to stay strong.

"That's the best you can manage?" She sighed, "Even attacking at full force..."

Frisk relaxed as they realized that, finally, Undyne would be their friend. They let a genuine smile creep onto their face and pulled their shirt up over their nose and mouth. It helped with the smoke and they stayed and listened because this was important.

Just as Undyne was suggesting they _finally_ leave, the sound of the fire changed, like it was welcoming an old friend. Frisk's head jerked up at the change in the sound and spun on their heel towards the door, searching through the haze of smoke. They thought they felt a breeze and took a few hesitant steps towards it, running into Grillby's leg.

Frisk clung to the fabric and looked up through the smoke.

Grillby was not amused.

The fire hissed faintly. Grillby frowned, his own fire flickering with red and white as his brow furrowed. The fire around them began to writhe like an animal caught in a trap. The air filled with hissing, snapping and popping as it struggled and then went unnaturally silent.

The feeling of the fire changed, the color shifted and Frisk recognized Grillby's colors in the flames.

Grillby flicked his hand impatiently.

The fire dwindled and went out with a hiss.

Frisk coughed faintly.

Grillby dropped his hand on top of their head. Smoothing their brown hair and absently brushing it free of ash.

The walls were stained with smoke. Everywhere there were large scars of black charred wood reaching up to the ceiling. The stove, what was left of it, had half melted from the intensity of the fire and was now a crumpled lump of blackened metal.

Grillby stepped away from Frisk and walked over to the kitchen counter.

They followed only a few steps behind.

Undyne jumped back away from him, a spear forming in her hands instinctively.

He spared her a glance, narrowing his eyes in warning. Then returned to looking at what was left of the kitchen. He put his hand under his chin and looked down at Frisk in confusion. "... _Traaiininng...?_ " He asked.

Frisk looked up morosely, "Spaghetti."

If Grillby had eyebrows they would've shot up. He looked back at the burnt counter still covered in the blackened veg and fruit Undyne had splattered across the surface, what was left of the pot, melted into the stove, and shook his head in mute horror.

He took Frisk's hand and headed towards the door. He looked at Undyne and impatiently gestured for her to follow.

Undyne was tight as a bowstring waiting for the worst and only tensed further at the gesture.

Frisk sighed and let go of Grillby's hand, running over to Undyne and grabbing her arm, knotted with muscle, and tugging on it with all their weight.

She let the spear disappear and lifted her arm up, Frisk still clinging to it until she could look them in the eye.

Frisk giggled, "Come. Please?"

Undyne narrowed her eye and scowled suspiciously but absently bounced Frisk on her arm before lowering them onto the ground with a sigh. "Alright." she nodded to Grillby.

He nodded back and stepped outside.

Frisk ran to join him, waiting as he picked up the large black umbrella he had set beside the door and carefully opened it. The handle was much longer than a normal umbrella, keeping it safely above his flames. Undyne followed after them, a few steps behind, still tense but settling into a sulk as Grillby led them to the ferry landing.

Grillby stared at the little boat with utter loathing and stepped aboard with great care.

Frisk followed and hurried to grab Grillby's hand, gripping it tight. Anxiety shot through them at the water all around them. They looked back at Undyne on the shore, eyes too wide with worry.

She forced nonchalance when she saw their expression. "I'm not gonna do anything, punk!" She snapped and stepped onto the boat with a wary delicacy that didn't come naturally to her.

Frisk beamed at her gratefully as the Riverperson guided them upstream back to Snowdin.

Grillby headed for the bar immediately.

Frisk grabbed Undyne's hand and pulled her along with them.

"What the HECK is going on, punk?!" Undyne asked even as she followed Frisk.

Frisk gave her a big, encouraging smile that Undyne couldn't stop herself from returning.

Grillby unlocked the bar and pushed the door open, waving Undyne in. He stopped Frisk with a hand on their shoulder and mimed placing a telephone to the side of his head.

Frisk pulled out their cellphone and held it out to him. He took it, flipping to Papyrus on the contracts, pointed to his name and made a quick beckoning motion with his finger.

Frisk nodded in understanding and called Papyrus as Grillby stepped inside after Undyne, the sconces lighting as he passed them on his way back to the back of the bar.

Papyrus picked up immediately, "GREETINGS, HUMAN!"

Frisk pulled the phone slightly back away from their ringing ears and quickly blurted, "Come to Grillby's?"

They waited for him to respond but head him running towards them instead, waving his arms over his head in greeting. Frisk grinned and waved back, stuffing their phone in their pocket.

"HUMAN!" Papyrus cried with joy and excitement, "THE GREAT PAPYRUS' FRIENDSHIP PLAN MUST HAVE BEEN A MAGNIFICENT SUCCESS?!"

Frisk supposed it was successful, sort of, if you ignored the part where Undyne's house almost burned to the ground. They gave him a thumbs up.

"REALLY?!" He gasped and swung them up into the air with all the exuberant joy in his bones.

Frisk giggled, clinging to his gloves until he sat them back onto the ground.

Their laughter was cut short by a deep, rattlingly cough that made their throat burn, reminding them that not long ago they had breathed for more smoke than was healthy.

"OH! OH!" Papyrus cried, sweeping them up and following Frisk's pointing fingers into the restaurant and to the kitchen.

Inside, Undyne was setting a pot half full of water onto the back iron cooktop while Grillby stood well back, his arms folded over his chest.

"MR. GRILLBY, SIR! THE HUMAN REQUIRES YOUR HELP!" Papyrus held Frisk out to him by the armpits, dangling like a kitten.

Grillby scooped them up with a halfhearted frown at Papyrus and pressed his hand to their back. Then sighed and shook his head.

"What now?!" Undyne snapped.

Grillby shot her a glare that made her mouth snap shut and cross her arms in front of her in a glower. He grabbed an empty glass and handed it to Papyrus, pointing to the small sink in the back of the kitchen and then to Frisk as he sat them on the edge of the table.

Papyrus quickly filled the glass and hurried over to Frisk who took it gratefully and sipped it slowly.

Grillby went back to his preparations and as Frisk watched, the work surface was soon filled with tomatoes, onions, garlic and a few sprigs of dried herbs. He handed Undyne and Papyrus each a knife and stood across from them.

They looked at one another.

"What the HECK is going on?!" Undyne said impatiently, stomping her foot.

Frisk thought they were being silly and lowered their glass, "Grillby's gonna teach you."

"TEACH US WHAT?" Papyrus asked.

Frisk sighed, "How to make spaghetti."

"I ALREADY know how to make spaghetti!"Undyne said in annoyance, her knife somehow ending up as a pointer and pointing straight at Grillby.

Grillby was really not impressed and pressed two fingers to the side of the blade.

Undyne yelped and dropped the knife as it heated.

Grillby picked up his own knife and gave them a pointed look.

Frisk said helpfully, "Watch."

Papyrus did with intense interest. Undyne crossed her arms and turned to the side, pretending not to care but watching from the side of her eye.

Frisk did not giggle at her but desperately wanted to. They pressed the glass of water to their mouth to hide their amusement.

Tomatoes were peeled and crushed. Minced garlic and onions and thyme were cooked in a pan, Papyrus and Undyne leaning over on either side of Grillby as he worked. Once softened, the tomatoes and a bit of salt, sugar and a pinch of basil were all added filling the air with a rich smell that made Frisk stomach rumble.

While the sauce slowly simmered, the pot of water beside was brought to a boil and Grillby put in the noodles, setting a timer and making both his students repeat back the time to him before he would let them relax.

He took out two pieces of paper and carefully copied down the recipe they had just made and handed a copy to them both before the noodles finished.

Undyne and Papyrus drained the noodles together, managing to keep a majority of it out of the sink. Grillby set out plates and forks, carefully portioning out the noodles and sauce, big servings for Undyne and Papyrus, small servings for Frisk and Grillby.

Frisk sighed into the first bite, it was wonderful, rich and smooth with a sour sweet tomato tang that blended into faint hints of garlic and herbs.

Both Undyne and Papyrus' eyes grew huge as they ate.

Papyrus teared up as he ate, saying between saucy mouthfuls."WOWIE! THIS IS THE BEST SPAGHETTI I'VE EVER HAD!"

Undyne nodded rapidly in agreement, never raising her head from the edge of the plate as she shoveled the spaghetti into her mouth.

Frisk spun a small bite onto their fork with a giggle.

"IF YOU SERVED THIS IN THE RESTAURANT I MIGHT EVEN EAT HERE!"

Undyne licked her plate clean, "Why don't you sell this, eh, Grillmyster?"

Grillby only paused briefly at the horrible nickname before taking their empty plates to the sink. Ash drifted down as he wiped his hand across the plates and then polished them clean with a towel.

Frisk looked down at their glass mournfully and held it up, nodding towards it.

"Oooh," Undyne said understanding, "Because of the water?"

Frisk gave a small thumbs up.

"I COULD HELP! I AM ONE HUNDRED PERCENT WATER-PROOF!" Papyrus said, putting a hand on his chest and posing for a breeze to whip his scarf out that never came.

Undyne perked up excitedly, "He could!"

Grillby put the last plate back with a soft click and turned to them.

"He's a fast learner and eager and he'd be-" she sought for another word that was not a lie, "-helpful?" Undyne grinned toothily.

Papyrus looked at Undyne, "BUT I AM GOING TO BE A ROYAL GUARDSMAN, FULL OF FRIENDSHIP AND KISSES. I'M THE GREAT PAPYRUS," his voice faulted, "FUTURE ROYAL GUARD PAPYRUS..."

"Right!" Undyne said quickly, "But THIS would be good too! AND there's a lot more friendship and kisses. Think of all the friends you'll make!"

Grillby looked at Undyne appraisingly as she frantically tried to convince both of them this was a good idea. His gaze moving to Papyrus who was looking torn between hopeful and unhappy.

"People love cooks! Even more than royal guardsmen."

"...I'M GOING TO BE A HERO, A CHAMPION OF JUSTICE..."

Undyne clasped his gloved hands tightly in hers, "A cook is a- a CHAMPION of stomachs! You'll feed the hearts of the people!"

Papyrus looked at her with big shiny puppy dog eyes.

Grillby sighed and leaned against the work top next to Frisk. He looked at them questioningly.

Frisk looked from Undyne to Grillby and offered quietly, "Part-time?"

Undyne held her breath, and Papyrus' hands so tightly he squirmed, while Grillby thought.

Grillby turned, stepped over to Papyrus whose back straightened to attention under his searching gaze. He nodded.

"YEEEEEAAAHHHHH!" Undyne crowed, picking Papyrus up over her head and doing a victory benchpress with the poor skeleton.

"UNDYNE PUT ME DOWN!" Papyrus squirmed.

She sat him on his feet, clapping him on the back so hard he stumbled into the counter. "So, mornings with you, afternoons on sentry duty?"

Grillby shook his head.

Undyne shrugged, still grinning like mad, "Mornings on sentry duty, afternoons here in the restaurant then!"

Grillby nodded.

"This is gonna be awesome!" Undyne said, smacking Papyrus on the back again.

"B-BOTH-?!" Papyrus said, stars shining in his eyes.

Grillby nodded again.

"CAN I TELL SANS?"

Grillby made a shooing motion with his hand and watched Papyrus and Undyne crowd out the door together. Grillby sighed and shook his head to himself.

Frisk offered him a smile and hopped down onto the floor, "Open?" they asked.

Grillby nodded and they went to the front of the restaurant together to flip on the sign.

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(Next update: November 10th)


	7. Candlelit

(So this isn't the last chapter like I thought it would be. I had an idea and the inspiration for this chapter which should help ease into the ending better. If I can think of an idea for Mettaton and/or Muffet, there will be two more chapters, otherwise just one more. Thank you for all your support!)

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Chapter 6: Candlelit

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Frisk took a deep breath and looked up at Grillby. He had his arms crossed over his chest and was watching them calmly, waiting for them to give him he could start. Frisk nodded and Grillby sent out a wave of fire, so faint it was nearly translucent and Frisk knew it would only leave a lingering warmth if it hit them, but that wasn't the point. The point was _not_ to get hit. They dodged through the elaborate pattern, feeling the heat on their skin when the flames got close, then swiftly turned back to Grillby at the ready for the next wave. He attacked three more times, getting a little faster, a little more elaborate each time. Frisk didn't get hit once.

He nodded with a faint smile and Frisk grinned. They knew Grillby still wanted to train them in attacking as well, he had tried to press them to keep a weapon with them but Frisk always shook their head no. Frisk would take a weapon when they left, just to be safe, but so long as they were here, they felt safe just to dodge and offer mercy until the other monster left them alone.

They were afraid they would have to leave sometime soon. More and more monsters kept showing up, to see the human, to talk to the human, to attack the human. Grillby didn't tolerate the last but he never hurt the monsters that attacked Frisk too badly. Still, it felt like Frisk was running out of time, that sooner or later they would have to go and see the king and see if they could talk with him. They didn't want to. Frisk wished they could stay here forever.

Undyne ran up, a wicked grin on her face. She was wearing casual clothes and had been staying at Papyrus' house until her own could be repaired. Grillby had been teaching her close combat after he finished training Frisk. Once, he had even let Undyne spar with Frisk. Ut had been fun deflecting all the spears she had thrown at them. Frisk thought that Undyne might have even been a little impressed when they stopped.

They leaned back against the restaurant and watched as Grillby demonstrated a twisting grab on Undyne. Frisk plucked at the thin chain around their neck and carefully pulled it up and out from under their shirt. On the end of the chain was a crystal, it looked like quartz but it was orange with hints of yellow and red and it seemed to flicker like there was a flame in the center of it. Frisk curled their hands around the stone and felt their palms fill with a gentle pulsing heat.

Grillby had given it to them a few days ago and when they wore it against their skin it was a little bit like Grillby's magic and they could go a lot longer without needing him to heal them. Their lungs were almost all healed anyway, they only had a faint cough left and only had trouble breathing in the morning when they first woke up. Soon they would be back to normal, or at least as normal as they could be. Frisk dropped the crystal back under their shirt and pressed their hand over it.

Undyne was laying facedown in the street with Grillby's knee in her back. She was struggling and cursing into the cold snow. Grillby was grinning.

The restaurant door opened and Papyrus leaned out, "MR. GRILLBY, SIR!" Papyrus said, "TWO ORDERS FOR BURG AND FRIES?"

Grillby released Undyne somewhat reluctantly and stood up, straightening his clothes and pulling Undyne up, before hurrying into the restaurant after Papyrus. Frisk followed him and Undyne followed Frisk, shouting after Grillby's back, "Make it THREE orders! I'm starving!"

Undyne hopped onto an empty stool and plucked Frisk up and sat them beside her with a grin. Frisk grinned back. They liked being Undyne's friend.

Undyne was gushing about Alphys again. Undyne liked Alphys very much and it seemed like Alphys liked Undyne very much. Undyne had brought Alphys to visit twice and the yellow lizard had been so shy and nervous but when she was with Undyne, Undyne always seemed to know just what to say to make Alphys light up about her science projects or anime. What Frisk couldn't understand was why they weren't a couple when they obviously adored one another.

Papyrus burst out to the kitchen with two plates that he carried out to the booth and the pair of snow bunnies waiting there. Grillby didn't let Papyrus do much cooking yet. He cleaned, took orders and served but Grillby only let him near the stove with strict supervision. What was really nice, was how him working in the restaurant, had doubled the size of the menu. The soups Grillby had made Frisk were now available all the time and a couple pasta dishes as well, now that Papyrus could handle the water and Grillby wouldn't have to risk himself.

Frisk spun on their stool and looked around the bar. Dogeressa and Dogamy waved and Frisk waved back, which caused Doggo to wave once he could see them. The two snow bunnies at the booth were feeding each other french fries and looking lovey-dovey, they seemed to be on some sort of date. Frisk blinked and gasped.

"What is it, punk?" Undyne asked.

Frisk shook their head at her, jumping off their stool and running back to the kitchen. Grillby was plating Undyne's order and Frisk practically bounced with anticipation waiting for him to finish.

Grillby raised his brows as he handed the plate to Papyrus.

Frisk rushed up to him, tugging on the bottom of his vest.

He knelt down so he was level with them.

Frisk waited until Papyrus was gone with the order then said in an excited whisper, "Alphys and Undyne should go on a date!"

Grillby seemed surprised for a moment and then smiled and nodded.

"A romantic one," Frisk added.

Grillby nodded again and mussed their hair fondly. He thought for a moment then held up two fingers.

Frisk nodded in two days.

They left the food up to Grillby and recruited Sans and Papyrus to help get Alphys and Undyne to come to the restaurant at the right time. Papyrus told Undyne to come and taste his cooking and Sans convinced Alphys to come to some sort of sciencey brainstorming hang out sesh.

Grillby closed the restaurant early on the night of operation Romantic Date. Undyne came first and Papyrus hurriedly ushered her into the restaurant.

Frisk pressed their ear to the door to listen in.

"Geez, Papyrus!" Undyne said, "Quit pulling ya big dork! Why'd you insist I were cool clothes anyway?"

Papyrus said a little nervously, though Undyne didn't seem to notice, "COOL CLOTHES ARE NECESSARY FOR COOL FOOD!"

Undyne said, "Yeah, well, I'm sure anything you make'll be awesome!"

Frisk nodded to themselves and ran out the back door, hurrying to the ferry landing. The met Sans and Alphys as they were hopping off. Alphys was wearing a cute polka-dot dress and looking nervous even as Sans easily engaged her in a complicated conversation where the math seemed to have a lot more letters than numbers in it.

"O-oh, hi, Frisk." Alphys said with a wobbly smile as Frisk joined them.

Frisk smiled and waved.

Sans was grinning with a gloating cat-that-got-the-cream sort of expression that made Frisk glare at him briefly.

"Um, I k-know you insisted I dress nice-" Alphys scales hued red, "-but I d-don't really know why?"

Sans shrugged, "eh, you'll see."

They reached the restaurant and Sans didn't bother with the rest of the farce, giving Frisk a brief salute and then disappearing around the side the building with a wink.

"S-Sans?!" Alphys stepped after him.

Frisk grabbed her hand and quickly pulled her inside before she could go after him.

Inside all the tables had been pushed out of the way and the smallest one had been moved to the middle of the room, already set with fine delicate plates and two wine glasses. The sconces on the wall were flickering with a softer yellow light.

Papyrus shoved a bunch of slightly battered flowers into Undyne's hands with a not so subtle wink and skipped back to the kitchen.

Undyne said, "What the HECK am I suppos-" She saw Alphys and blushed.

"O-Oh n-no-" Alphys said in a tiny panicked whisper. "I-I c-can't-! Frisk!"

Frisk gripped her hand harder and pulled her along, pushing her in front of Undyne. They were both blushing furiously.

Undyne swallowed hard and stiffly held out the flowers.

Alphys took them awkwardly, almost dropping them, "Th-thank you..."

Grillby came out with a bottle of wine, a white cloth draped over his arm. He carefully poured a measured amount into both glasses, not too much, but maybe enough for them to relax.

He stood back.

Alphys and Undyne were both still froze in stricken embarrassment.

Grillby made a snapping, cracking fireplace sound and they both jumped. Grillby glared at Undyne and looked pointedly at Alphy's chair.

Undyne snapped to attention and hurried over to pull out Alphys chair for her.

Frisk carefully took Alphys' flowers for her and put them into the vase in the center of the table, then backed up to stand with Grillby.

Alphys sat and then Undyne rushed to the other chair, practically throwing herself into it.

Grillby offered them both a small hand-written menu.

Undyne ordered the spaghetti bolognese and Alphys offered a tiny squeaky, "S-same."

Grillby guided Frisk out of the room ahead of him, a hand on their shoulder to keep them from lingering.

Frisk was put with Papyrus, to help him cook the spaghetti noodles while Grillby made the sauce. Grillby had made the noodles himself ahead of time and they were done cooking before Grillby was done with the sauce. Frisk took the opportunity to sneak past Grillby out to the hallway, pushing the door open just a crack to peer inside and see how it was going.

Undyne was gesturing wildly and gushing while Alphys blushed and looked nervous and maybe a little upset. Frisk frowned. Alphys was supposed to be happy and having fun, not be upset. Frisk wondered if they had done the wrong thing.

They glanced back as Grillby emerged from the kitchen with a large tray, walking past them and out into the restaurant. When he returned, with the tray tucked under one arm, he caught Frisk's shoulder and gently guided them back to the kitchen.

Grillby had made enough spaghetti bolognese for them too and they all ate it around the work counter. Grillby was calm but Frisk and Papyrus fidgeted with anxiety.

"DO YOU THINK IT WILL GO WELL?!" Papyrus asked with a bit of a squeak in his voice.

Frisk tried to smile reassuringly but it came out a little strained.

Papyrus fiddled with his new apron, "I REALLY, SUPER, WANT IT TO GO WELL. IT WOULD MAKE UNDYNE SO HAPPY!"

Frisk nodded in agreement.

Grillby reached out on either side of him and squeezed both their shoulders. He headed toward the door and Frisk went to follow him but he stopped them with a look and a shake of his head. So Frisk waited.

Papyrus lifted them up and let them sit on the work table while he enthusiastically cleaned everything he could in an effort to distract himself.

Frisk and Papyrus turned towards the door as Grillby came back in with the empty plates.

He shook his head slightly in exasperation, caught Frisk's eye and nodded towards the door.

Frisk quickly jumped down and ran outside. Papyrus tried to follow, Grillby pushed the dirty plates and silverware into his arms and looked pointedly at the sink.

Frisk hurried out to the street and then, ran towards the ferry, catching Alphys halfway there.

She startled when Frisk ran up and then smiled hesitantly, "H-Hi Frisk. Thanks for tonight."

Frisk nodded encouragingly.

"O-Oh! Well... It went well, really!" She smiled weakly, "I-I just have to take care of something. I..." Her voice trailed off and she looked worried.

Frisk reached out and caught her hand and held it tightly.

"Th-thanks, Frisk." She said, pausing by the ferry, "I just- I just want to be worthy of her so..." she cleared her throat, "...so I have to take care of something... b-be brave... It's n-not really my thing."

Frisk squeezed and Alphys relaxed a little.

"I'll t-text you, in a couple days?" she said, "M-my friend, Mettaton, wants to meet you a-and I promised I would introduce you if that's ok?"

Frisk nodded and let go of her hand as she stepped onto the ferry. They waved to her until she was out of sight and then headed back to Grillby's.

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(Next Update: Nov. 24th, 2016.)


End file.
